


Unpredicted.

by CountlessUntruths (KaliCephirot)



Category: Half Life Trilogy - Sally Green
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4360631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliCephirot/pseuds/CountlessUntruths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nathan gets sorted in an unexpected House, it means anything could happen. [Cemetery fic, won't be updated in the future]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unpredicted.

**Author's Note:**

> Not a plot-related fic, more to be an open chance to write the characters in the HP-verse. It's going to have eventual Nabriel, 'tho, as well as some mentions of others.

It takes him nearly twenty minutes to convince Arran and Debs that yes, really, he will be fine, that Arran can go and meet with his friends and that it's perfectly fine that Deborah has to go and have a meeting with the Head Boy as well as the prefects of the year before they leave him alone in his compartment.

It's not that Nathan, precisely, wants to be alone: he knows that there's a very good chance that he will be anyway from now on, because chances are that he's going to be put in Slytherin, and he wants to treasure the time that he will have with his siblings now, when he can still be himself and not-- not like his father, not the names Jessica has always called him. He wants Deborah to smile at him while she helps him with his homework (and Nathan knows that if there is any reason why he has any letters now it's out of Deb's endless patience) and he wants to be with Arran and have Arran tell him stories of how much fun they were going to have, when Nathan was sorted into Hufflepuff.

Neither of them had ever believed that he'd ever be a Hufflepuff, but it had been a kind, warm story to have, a small lie that he fights to keep now.

But he'd rather be alone than have his siblings hurt. Deborah had kept a perfectly empty smile and expression, and Arran hadn't said a thing, but Arran's hand in his had tightened, and Deborah had ever so sweetly mused about the many OWLs she had made in DADA and spellcurses.

All because one small whisper.

"Death Eater's son."

Jessica has called him worse things every day since he was born, and against their older sister his brother and sister can do nothing, but, against strangers? He knows Deborah and Arran and he knows, knows that they'll break themselves to protect him if they have to , the same way their grandmother has been doing it.

It's going to be a whole year of this, Nathan knows, of his brother and sister feeling that they have to protect him, and he knows that there's nothing he can do about it: for Debs it'll be over this year, but it's still three whole years for Arran and Nathan will not let Arran be hurt.

So rather than see them hurt, Nathan has chosen that he'd rather be without them: if he has to be lonely, fine. He's been without his siblings at home for four years for most of the year, he can take it. A little loneliness isn't bad.

He has barely opened his sketchbook, a chewed up pencil in hand, when there's a knock and then the door is sliding open and a boy with golden-brown eyes is smiling at him. He's already wearing his uniform, a green-and-silver tie around his neck, the Slytherin emblem in his chest and Nathan really tries not to glare, but he can't help it.

" _Tiens!_ ," the boy says, apparently deciding to ignore his glaring. "Is this compartment free? We arrived a little late, it seems, and now everywhere else is busy."

"Um, no, but--"

"Perfect! _Michèle, venez!_ You'll have to excuse us, my sister is ever so excited that she packed half her room, the reason why we're late."

"As if you hadn't done the same!" the girl has the same accent as the boy and their resemblance is close enough that, even if they weren't arguing, it'd be obvious that the two of them are siblings, the two of them with dark hair and hazel eyes.

Their discussion doesn't last long as the boy finishes pushing their trunks inside, offering him a dimply smile and Nathan thinks he hates him immediately. "Sorry for the intrusion. I'm Gabriel. The little noisy kneazle over there is Michéle. Ouch!"

Even he smiles a bit when the girl throws a shoe at her brother, but then she smiles at him. "You're a first year too, right? Where do you think you'll get sorted?"

"Dunno, don't care," Nathan mutters.

"What, really?" Michèle gasps. "Well, _maman_ was a Ravenclaw, so she wanted either Gab or me to be one, but there's no way I'm going to be one."

"Yes, yes, I am the family's disappointment," Gabriel shrugs, but he gives him a smile. "Do you have family here?"

They don't know, Nathan realizes, which gives him hope for a moment before he ruthlessly squishes it. It doesn't matter, not really, that they don't know who he is. They'll know soon enough and then not even Slytherin Gabriel will want to talk to him.

He shrugs a bit, looking again at his sketchbook.

"Brother and sister. Arran's a 'puff, Debs' a 'claw. An older sister that went to Gryffindor. Mom was a 'puff, too, and dad was a Slytherin. Gran was a Gryffindor."

Gabriel gives a low whistle. "Well, a family member through the whole School. That's impressive."

"Where would you want to go?" Michèle asks him.

He doesn't even have to think about it. "Hufflepuff."

She looks like she understands as she nods. "I'd like to be in Slytherin, but Gab says that he doesn't think I'm one."

"Nope, they don't accept kneazles who keep calling their brother 'Gab' rather than 'Gabriel' there."

" _Gab_ is as stuck up as them, 'tho, that's why he was sorted in Slytherin."

A short discussion starts, in French, which he can't follow at all.

"Why d'you come here if you're French? I don't get it," Nathan says, efectually interrupting the discussion.

"Well," Gabriel says. "That's a little complicated."

" _Maman's_ from here, well, Wales, actually, but here, United Kingdom I mean," Michèle starts.

"And dad's Swiss."

"But they met in France, were we were born and we grew up there."

"But they divorced two years ago," the boy finishes with a shrug. "And _maman_ wanted us to come to Hogwarts. It has better academic credentials than Beauxbatons."

"And it's less expensive," Michèle says with a similar shrug to her brother.

That, he can understand. The only thing new he brought with himself was his wand: oak with dragonheart strings, eleven inches, excellent for curses. His robes are hand-me-downs from Arran, most of his schoolbooks come from Deborah: their grandmother's potions sell well enough, except that a lot of people refuse to make business with her because of him and Jessica, even though she could help with the expenses with the salary she makes as a junior Auror, would probably rather eat a boggart than give anything that could also benefit him.

The three of them reject the witch selling her candies when she goes past their compartment, Nathan reaching for the cookies and homemade jam his grandmother sent.

"We brought some sandwiches from home," Gabriel says. "We could share."

"I've some chocolate as well, papa sent it," Michèle says, leaning forward so they can each cut a piece.

Nathan finds himself offering the cookies and the jam, laughing as Michèle makes faces while Gabriel eats the cookies with both the chocolate and the jam, warming up toward them without being able to stop himself thinking that, when he gets sorted into Slytherin, at least he'll get to speak with Gabriel, that maybe Michèle won't hate him since she doesn't hate her brother.

They say goodbye to Gabriel at the train station, Gabriel wishing them both "bonne chance!" which Nathan guesses is good luck, Arran also managing to find him for a minute, telling him to remain calm. Michèle grins at him, all nervous energy, bouncing over the balls of her feet. She grabs hold of his hands and pulls at him so they go over the same boat, and while the Sorting Hat sings its song, she remains by his side. She waves at her brother, standing on tiptoes. He realizes that, while he's sitting by Slytherin, not many people of his table are paying attention to him and that Gabriel doesn't seem to care, instead waving back at his sister.

He knows that he won't have to wait much for this to be over, and he's still surprised when 'Bless, Michèle' goes before him. Michèle offers him a small smile before she rushes towards the teacher with the Sorting Hat, and it doens't take much before the hat screams a happy 'Gryffindor' and, Nathan realizes, no-one cheers louder than her brother, but his musings get lost when 'Byrn, Nathan' gets called.

He notices the murmuring, the whispers, even hears some words. He resists the urge to look towards Arran or towards Deb, simply marching towards his doom.

_Doom, you say? Mmm, quite peculiar, aren't you._

Not really, Nathan thinks. Just normal.

_Where should you go? You do have quite a bit of your father in you, but I don't think Slytherin would make you happy._

Want? He wants a lot of things. He wants Deborah and Arran and Gran to be happy. He wants to be free. He wants, above all things, to not have to be afraid.

_Well, if that's the case, it's pretty clear to me that the only place you could be is in--_

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat yells.

The silence that follows it is defeaning. Even Nathan feels unsteady on his feet.

Not Hufflepuff, true. But not Slytherin, his father's house. He's in Jessica's old house. In Gran's old house.

Gryffindor.

A loud cheer, all the way from Slytherin, startles him from out of his surprise. Gabriel, standing up on the bench, is loudly cheering for him. From Gryffindor, tiny Michèle has also stood up on the bench, clapping and cheering for him. And then, from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, he sees Arran and Deborah standing up as well, smiling so wide that he fears their faces might simply fall off, cheering and clapping for him. Little by little, there's a scatter of nervous, dissonant applause, but he doesn't care.

Nathan finds himself grinning as wide as he knows how, and he runs towards the table, laughing as Michèle hugs him because this, this is new. No-one was prepared for this possibility, not even he.

Which means that everything could happen now.


End file.
